


Swimming

by supreme_genius



Series: Howl [2]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: A/U, Episode: S01E09 Of Mouse And Man, Implied Violence, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 13:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supreme_genius/pseuds/supreme_genius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story based on "Swimming"</p><p>"Pull me out the water, cold and blue<br/>I open my eyes and I see that it's you<br/>So I dive straight back in the ocean"</p><p>*This is A/U starting at the end of "Of Mouse and Man" and Juliette doesn't exist.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimming

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Grimm or Florence + The Machine.  
> Unbeta'd.

Swimming  
“ _Pull me out the water, cold and blue  
I open my eyes and I see that it’s you  
So I dive straight back in the ocean_ ”

 

Nick had just wrapped up the case with the mauzhertz and the lausenschlange when he pulled up to his house and saw Monroe slumped over on his porch. He felt like someone had punched him in the chest. He’d gotten a text from his friend earlier saying they needed to _palaver_. He didn’t quite know what that meant, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t it.

Monroe was barely conscious when Nick got him inside. He had to summon all his strength to get his friend inside. Somehow he even managed to get him upstairs; he knew Monroe was very against sleeping on sofas. Nick got him into bed and winced when he was able to get a good look at him. He was cut and scratched and bruised. There was a particularly dark bruise on his right temple, reaching around his eye and even back into his hairline.

There was a lump in Nick’s throat and, though he wouldn’t admit, there were tears starting to sting his eyes. He’d dragged Monroe into this mess. Nick knew it was his fault; he cursed himself, his heritage, and – mostly – the reapers. He knew it was them. They had come for Aunt Marie already. They would come for Nick eventually, he knew that, but until then they were just going to go after everyone he loves.

Monroe sighed, still lacking coherent thought. He tried to get out words, but the sigh was all he could manage. It hurt to move, to speak, even to just lay there. He didn’t quite know where he was. He remembered going to meet someone about a gig. It was starting to come back to him. The gig was just to lure him there. He remembers the pain, the kicking, the hitting. He remembers far more than he wants to. He’s almost panting the pain is almost too much for him. He tries to smell the air around him. He can just pick up on the familiar scent. He thinks his nose might be broken. _That scent_ , he thinks, _is Nick_. He’s in Nick’s house. _Good_. He manages to move his hand a little, he feels Nick’s leg.

Nick’s startled by the touch, but also sort of relieved. Monroe is conscious, at least somewhat. A flash of panic runs through him. He should have called 911, should have gotten help for his friend. He knew that wouldn’t help. There would be no way to explain any of this. Without thinking, Nick grabs Monroe’s hand.

Monroe grumbles, trying so hard to say something; his brain and mouth aren’t cooperating. He’s getting frustrated, angry. The words are there: in his mind, on the tip of his tongue. He’s holding onto Nick’s hand as hard as he can, trying to pull him closer. He’s panicky and knows he could be going into shock. And for the first time in a long time, Monroe is scared. He feels weak and vulnerable. Both their hearts are racing – they’re both scared.

“N-Nick…” Monroe finally manages.

“I’m right here, Monroe. I’m not going anywhere.” He strokes his friend’s cheek with a light hand. “I’m right here.” His voice is soft and low and pained.

Nick remembers the last time he was in the hospital. It wasn’t long ago. He’d gone a round with Oleg Stark, a siegbarste. Monroe was the first person there. He was always there, right there. Nick feels like an asshole; he could never really manage to thank Monroe. He invited Nick to stay with him until he healed. When Nick finally went home – two weeks later – Monroe marked Nick’s territory, hoping to keep the rest of the wesen world away.

Nick was shaking. He was a big ball of nerves. He was looking down at his best friend, all bloody and broken, after finding him on his porch, left for dead by a gang of reapers. Nick knew it was a message.

Monroe’s eyes were just barely open, just enough to see that Nick is there next to him. He puts his strength into forcing his lips to curl into a just-noticeable smile. He wants to let his friend know that he’s in there and he’s ok. Nick sees it and slams his own eyes shut, trying to stop the tears.

“Oh god, Monroe, I am so sorry.” His voice is strained, plagued with guilt. “I never should have forced you into this. This is all my fault.”

“No.” Monroe squeezes Nick’s hand. He wants to say so much more; tell his friend that it’s not his fault, that he _wants_ to help, that he _likes_ to help. His jaw is sore and he’s just so tired. His eyes close and he sighs again.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.” Nick reclaims the hand he had on Monroe’s cheek, but still holds his friend’s hand in the other. He lays down on the bed, never taking his eyes off the man next him.

XXX

Nick wakes up to the sun starting to peak through the curtains. He checks the clock; it’s just after seven. His hand is still holding Monroe’s, Nick smiles a sad smile. Monroe’s still asleep, looking even more bruised and battered than last night. Nick sniffles and sighs.

“You’re always there for me, Monroe. I should have been there for you. I should’ve had your back like you’ve had mine.” Nick’s voice is quiet and shaky. He has all these things that he needs to say but is too afraid to. “I’m here now, though. I’ll always be there for you. I’ll make damn sure I am – whenever you need me.” Nick chokes back a whine. “I don’t know why you’d ever need me, though.” Nick’s voice is so soft he’s barely even speaking.

“Well, right now I need you to get me some aspirin or something.”

Monroe’s voice startles Nick. Monroe looks at him with a heavy-lidded gaze. He smiles a little, pained smile.

“Maybe a heating pad.”

Nick doesn’t know why, but he’s crying and he can’t help it. He practically throws himself – with the utmost care as to not to hurt Monroe anymore – over the other man in a half-assed hug.

“Dude, man up.”

“Shut up, Monroe. I thought I was going to lose you.” Nick’s mumbling into Monroe’s shirt, head inches from a dried bloodstain. Nick can’t bear to pull himself away from Monroe, who finally wraps his arms around his friend’s slender frame.

“Come on, man. I’m tough; I’m a blutbad.”

“Have you seen yourself? Monroe, I-I…”

“I’m ok, Nick. I’m here, I’m breathing, I’m talking to you.”

“I could have lost you. They just left you for dead on my porch. It’s all my fault. You’re always getting hurt and it’s my fault.” There’s so much pain and guilt in Nick’s voice.

“It’s not your fault, Nick, it’s _not_.” The red is starting to seep into Monroe’s vision but he pushes it away. “I could say no, but I don’t…because I want to help. You’re my friend – my best friend – and I would do anything for you. That’s not gonna change because of a few scratches.”

Nick’s hands are fisted in Monroe’s shirt, holding onto him for dear life. He refuses to let go of his friend, he just can’t bring himself to do it. Monroe understands, he really does, so he keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Nick.

They lay there for an hour or so before they both fall asleep. When they wake up, it’s early afternoon. Nick’s tears have since dried and he’s loosened his grip on Monroe’s shirt. He feels better, calmer. Monroe is sore, but he’s alive. That’s what he focuses on. There are wrinkles pressed into Nick’s face from Monroe’s shirt and he has a wild case of bedhead; Monroe couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What?”

“You’re face, it’s sheet-marked.”

Nick shakes his head and smiles, a blush working its way across his face. “You know, I’m really glad I didn’t lose you.”

Monroe smiles back, a warm feeling radiating in his chest. “Me, too.”


End file.
